


Nightmare

by skelli



Category: Fire Emblem: Kakusei | Fire Emblem: Awakening
Genre: Alcohol, Altered Mental States, Blood, Blood Drinking, F/M, Femdom, Magic, Mind Manipulation, Violence
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-12
Updated: 2018-07-12
Packaged: 2019-06-09 08:32:51
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,638
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15263529
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/skelli/pseuds/skelli
Summary: What was it about Tharja that had seemed so harmless as they looked into each other’s eyes in the daylight? Robin finds himself at the mercy of Tharja, falling into a dark corner of a dark magic ritual for a night and sees into the vivid chaos of Tharja's love for him.





	Nightmare

**Author's Note:**

> I love the concept of Tharja and her character at different angles, especially in reference to her questionable presence in the Shepherds. I have my own interpretation of her character and wanted to write a piece where she is not as harmless as she seems. I think the issues with her character sometimes run with the fact of the rating and depth of the game and the fandom. I think of her to be a genuine chaotic neutral with a lot of power that she uses for her own personal agenda. Anyways, in this piece she manipulates Robin to her tent so if you feel uncomfortable with a stalker altering their target's mental status for their own personal gain then this is not the fic for you.

The sensation was breathtaking: warm and thorough, it filled him through his veins slow and thick like syrup and it felt good. That was the concerning part. Or it _would_ have been concerning if it didn’t feel just right to sit along the edge of his consciousness with not a care in the world and a heat in his blood that made the fire before him feel just right on his cheeks. It might have been concerning to be so buzzed so he almost had enough of a thought to look into his drink and question it.

The rings of liquid in the dark shade of night rippled at his hand movement, sloshing against the cup’s side, reminding him vaguely of the beauty of waves at sea. Robin hummed softly in appreciation, sliding further down in his seat, letting the cup settle against his thigh. All the noise of his companions was just pleasant background noise, voices coming together, closer and farther and laughter. Robin’s head dipped, chin touching his chest; he loved the sound of laughter. He smiled, eyes closed with the weightlessness of his body. Everyone was safe, everyone was having a good time…

Delicate fingers threaded through his hair, touching along his scalp with the light graze of fingernails. A heat, not of the fire, pressed to his side and Robin felt the sweet comfort of a body to rest his cheek on. The soft give of breasts pressed against his head and he felt the hot touch of skin which comforted him but also aroused his attention.

A lulling voice murmured down to him, sickly sweet, “Doesn’t it feel good…?” The question lingered, words following nicely to the gentle petting of his hair. The hand trailed down along his cheek in a cool caress, tilting his head back when the hand cupped his chin. His eyes drifted open, stars and embers blurring behind shadowed features that accented faintly smiling lips and shimmering eyes. Thick eyelashes lowered as his mouth opened, slack and oddly too relaxed. He knew those slender lips turned up in their coy mischievousness though, and despite her usual sly and penetrative mannerisms in his life, at the moment he couldn’t find himself anything more than happy to see her smiling.

Tharja gently leaned down to him, her bangs tickling his skin as her hair came falling over her shoulder like a dark veil, shading them from the light of the fire. “Robin..” She whispered into his mouth, the heat of her lips doing strange things to his stomach. His hand tipped dangerously with the cup only for it to be pulled from his grasp with a simple tug by her free hand’s slim fingers. When her eyes flicked back to his face, his entire body flushed as if being enveloped by the winter coats they had used in Ferox. And yet he had never had such heat settle underneath his skin, the warmth giving him a light headed dizziness that he had to close his eyes to fight against. The tender hold of Tharja’s hand under his chin grounded him, reminding him where his body still was.

“Oh…” There was a soft chuckle, fond and quiet, “Was it a little strong…?” Those pleasantly cool fingers cupped both his hot cheeks and he hummed, head tipping to one side with the weight of his own consciousness. There was the delicate rustle of clothing moving and one finger drew a lovely, tingling line down Robin’s throat, tasting briefly the vulnerability he no longer realized he held before it pulled the clasp of his hood open and openly displayed the fine lines of his collarbones. A moment he was left to just the dark, hot fog of his mind and he relished the sensation, unable to bring himself out from underneath the heavy hands of intoxication and … was this arousal? He couldn’t…

Had he even drank that much…?

A wrinkle pinched between his brows as he pushed through the heaviness of his limbs to move a hand up to his face, head muddled and confused. His cheeks were hot to the touch, his breathing heavy and distracting and he leaned forward, trying not to lose concentration to his own swaying.

His cup.. where was his cup.. Robin forced his eyes open and looked at his hand, opening and closing it for measure. It wasn’t.. Where was Chrom? He could tell-

“Robin..” His name in that sweet, sweet voice. A pair of lips pressed to the flesh of his ear and he felt a shiver up his spine, fumbling his worries. He grabbed at the presence in front of him, hand sliding along the smooth surface of cloth and slipping down the arm where it slid his hand down further to hold hands. “Robin.” His name a little firmer and he felt that same hand being led up and behind him as he came face to face with a demon… sharp angles, and black shadows framing the whites of teeth… opening… even laughing…

Oh.. He let all his fear dissipate, like dissolving them in warm water when he saw the pleased smile on her face. Not a demon at all, but Tharja’s deep, deep eyes and flushed cheeks. Her eyes glowed with the angles of the fire, a beautiful sunset flickering at him as she drank in what felt like all his worries. Fluid, like the water that he seemed to be floating through, she moved closer to him and pushed her lips to his. He made a small noise, head tipping back slightly. Her lips felt nice, soft…. She pressed a kiss upon him again and again, over and over, soft angles and pressure that lingered on his mouth. The continuous, tingling sensation relaxed his stiff shoulders and when he was breathless, he simply opened his mouth against hers and indulged in shared oxygen.

The way her palm touched his was cool and comforting, like she was his anchor. His head dipped forward when she pulled back silently. Robin’s mind was nothing but heated, mashed together feelings and flashes of Tharja’s eyes staring at him endlessly. The hand she was holding moved forward and he opened his eyes that he hadn’t noticed he had closed.

A garble of noise echoed through his ears, the light of the fire and the dizziness made Tharja’s mouth fade in and out, all white teeth and curved lips, moving and moving. Robin wanted to put a hand to his face again, hold in all his escaping thoughts but he could only stare blindly down at his boots, and feel the smooth touch of Tharja’s fingers on his palm. All thoughts of finding Chrom had fled from him. Her lips touched his ear again, a shared whisper between them.

“Come here, Robin.”

A tug on his hand made his arm feel boneless but somehow he was pulled onto his feet, taking a dizzy step to the side and then into Tharja’s body. Her warmth washed over him as his cheek found her smooth shoulder and he relaxed. A hand touched at the back of his neck, the cold, charming touch against his hot skin aroused his attention and he hummed.

“Not here, Robin… this way.” Tharja spoke against him, her voice vibrating even into his chest, making his limbs buzz with a strange excitement. Even his fingers tingled and he squeezed them around the hand that was holding his, testing. So solid. He became aware they were walking when they light of the fire had been completely lost and a cold darkness swept over his senses. The brush of cloth against his face made him flinch late.

“Robin..” A voice cooed, coaxing a smile from his lips, eyelids heavy but attention focused on the sweet, sweet praise. The delicate but grasping scent of Tharja surrounded him, soothing the tingling along his spine and warming his stomach with coiling fingers. Hands cupped his face, “I’ve waited for this..” A kiss to his lips, lingering, moving and words were being said to him again. The world was spinning, a strange hue of purple and red and darkness and he tried to listen but simply the tone told him it was all good nothings and he smiled again, a little breath escaping only to be eaten right up, hot heat against his mouth.

Hands moved along him slowly, feeling him over his clothes with pointed awareness, like they knew all of the lines and curves of his body already (like they had done this many, many times.) They were patient, attentive, moving him without even a hint of force. It felt good to have the fingers pull softly along his clothes, releasing him from the heat of his layers. He shifted around for them, letting go of each piece of clothing as he was folded across the bedding to finally settle him so the world didn’t seem to tip so drastically.

His cheeks were cupped, pulling his lolling head up and he tried to keep his eyes from fluttering closed as a weight settled on top of him, the heat of another person warming him through what couldn’t be more than one layer of clothing. “Your cheeks are so warm…” The words were gentle and murmured with such tenderness that it made his breath catch in his chest. He even wanted to reply but all his mouth could do was fall open. His fingers felt numb, heavy and slow, so he simply tried to make eye contact in order to prove his ability to communicate. 

Where were his words? 

Even the flow of magic in his body felt weak, rippling under his skin like a drip falling into a puddle. His limbs, as if emptied of their strength, buzzed delicately and the hand that lifted his wrist caressed the skin above his veins as though it could sense his weakness. 

He watched in gentle awe as his fingers were lifted to smiling lips and kissed, knuckle by knuckle. The tingling that erupted from each press of her lips startled him and a sweet, aching squeeze tightened in his lower stomach. 

“Hn…”

Tharja’s eyes lit up, glowing with a flame of inspiration in the dim haze of the tent and she opened her mouth, nipping the tip of his pointer finger, pulling out a tight, jolting, “Ah!” from him. 

Robin was almost shaking now. He trembled, fingers hardly able to move but curling slightly in the anticipation of possibly being bitten again. How hot his face felt even without his robe and the fire and now that he had this burning in his guts, he no longer felt he was simply drifting aimlessly on the pleasure but almost vividly drowning in it. 

“Darling Robin…” 

The ache was suffocating now, his breath catching in his chest with a hot clenching fist holding each of his lungs. He squirmed, fingers twitching and Tharja giggled sweetly, settling herself fully on him. 

“Does it hurt a little?” She murmured, bending down until their chests touched and her face was only a fraction of a space away. Her hair tickled. Slowly she pushed his hand back down to the blankets, pinning it beneath hers as she intertwined their fingers one by one. The candles fluttered behind her, shivering as if touched by a gentle breeze and then dulled to flames clinging to their lives. 

With wet eyes he looked into her sweet smile, awestruck, overwhelmed and without a thought as to what to do. He simply wanted breath, a moment to catch himself. She flashed him her teeth again and pressed her cool nose to his hot throat. Pain erupted, prickling up his spine and settling deep at the base like the lighting of a fire. He clenched his jaw, feeling the sinking of her teeth on his throat tighten a fraction. Suffocating under the sensation, he sobbed out a trembling, weakened breath and squeezed his eyes shut. 

He didn’t know if it was pain anymore that buzzed in his stomach. Hot tendrils dripped along his exposed neck and, once, she pressed a hot tongue against the wound, licking at her mark. Sitting up, Tharja used one controlled finger to wipe a drip of blood from the corner of her lips and into her mouth. 

“As sweet as I would expect, Robin.” Her voice was just over a whisper and as she spoke, her smile began growing and growing in the whispering lights, “You’re so…” A sharp intake of breath in her satisfaction and she coiled her arms about herself, enveloped in the experience. An expression half hidden in the darkness that yet still clearly had a pinch of delight. 

The words felt just as powerful as the bite on his neck and he couldn’t repress another sob tearing through him, rough and raw. Shushing him softly, Tharja lulled him back into soft kisses, quieting him with such fondness that he blushed under her kisses, streaks of tears still lining his face. The wooziness that had debilitated him was lost to a plentiful weight along his body that was settled deepest in his stomach and made him feel as though he were close to sleep. 

Barely able to move, Robin was left sniffing softly and buzzing with the jolting remnants of pain that no matter how he first experienced them always muddled into pleasure. Tears were freely running down his face but Robin was unaware, lost in the heightened sensations of his body. 

A body that no longer seemed fully his. And he had known duller sensations of this before. Dark magic was not something to turn his nose up at. 

“I was thinking,” Tharja spoke down to him, standing now above him with such intense shadow and power he was sure his body would tremble if it could. Her eyes peering out from the darkness about her face showed something he couldn’t put words to; strength and hunger and intensity. Intelligence. “I was thinking of letting you drift,” Her fingers danced at the word as if touching invisible clouds, “While I played. But I just had to see you endure so I’ve kept you awake. I wanted you to see too.” 

She stepped away from Robin and with his neck being so weak he couldn’t even lift his head to follow her once she was out of his sight. Her words made little sense to him and more so he had no capacity for thought and briefly felt the tilting whirl of nausea and lightheadedness so the words dispersed into a grey haze. He closed his eyes, swallowed at stinging in his throat and hoped strangely for less. Or more. Something different than his inbetween where he didn’t know and couldn’t find out. 

Had he fallen asleep? Or had he only closed his eyes a moment? Somehow time felt as if it had passed. He was not feeling the sickness pulling at his guts and opened his eyes more so as if he was rising from a dream. Tharja was waiting on him, crouched by his side with her unblinking eyes. A gentle caress up his cheek that was somehow greatly moving and horrifying at the same time. His body was warm and tender at the touch, his magic rising as if meeting an old friend but his rational mind. His rational mind rose up from the dust and tried to call out to him.

_There’s danger!_

“Are you tired, Robin?” She murmured very softly. “I know you’ll stay awake for my games though, won’t you?” Her tone was sickly sweet, unassuming and maybe even cute. If her expression was less intense… 

Wordlessly he watched, as she pushed his hair back, letting it sit between her fingers as she left a soft kiss on his now exposed forehead. 

“Of course you will… Of course you will…” 

Static buzzed through him, rippling straight along his veins, into his stomach and pooling hotly, almost too hotly. It reached his groin, his thighs, heat, heat, the peak of a heat in his organs that stole his air. Subconsciously he leaned up. 

“Can you hear me, Robin?”

A slow nod, eyes closed beneath heavy eyelashes. She rocked his head between her hands, playful. “Can you _think_ , my dear Robin?” 

A moment to process the question. He nodded, but there was uncertainty. She cooed, charmed by his confusion, his conflict. 

“Come now, open your eyes. Are you scared I’ll bite you again?” She murmured into him and he felt those words as if they were sinking into him. They were heavy but patient and he squirmed, pinching his expression and she nipped his nose. 

“I’ve played quite a bit.” Her tone cut, as if even maybe Tharja could become a little sheepish. She gave a little giggle and he peeked out, overwhelmed but drawn by her laughter like a lantern in the dark. Their eyes met and he knew of fondness by her gaze. She was sitting along his hips again and he swore even if they were merely seconds, time was being stolen from him. 

But he had a focus. His eyes drifted and he found her amusement to be just as possible for the gleaming knife settled nicely in her hand. There lacked hesitation to Tharja’s movements. Inflicting pain on others was something he knew all of them, even Chrom, to be capable of. But her knife came down towards her own palm and he knew she was capable of things not any of the other Shepherds wanted to be capable of. Through the spell he somehow found his voice. 

Breathlessly, “Wait, wait, wait-” 

A peak of distress, her hand cutting as delicate as the cloth of a scroll and he thought his stomach would turn to stone. Tharja! The blood that dripped to the bare skin of his chest and stomach was hot, stinging almost. Raw with magic. She tipped her wrist loosely, letting the knife roll in her hand. 

“Careful, careful…” The hand rose, black and white in the dark and came above him. 

Robin flinched at the drip of blood, feeling the wet smack on his cheeks. Gasping, even once turning his face at the flicks of life against his face, he swallowed harshly at the weight in his throat. Fear held a firm seat in his processing. 

“I bet you don’t know how happy I am that you broke part of my magic simply out of worry for me. But I won’t wait any longer, Robin.” 

His lips were pressed tightly together and Tharja touched her wet fingers to them, painting them carefully. 

“Open up.” 

He squeezed tighter even though it felt like he was about to fall head first out of the sky. The room drifted back into darkness and weight pressed down on all sides of his body. He couldn’t breathe. He couldn’t breathe! 

Robin broke through with a sharp gasp, the darkness retreating from the corners of his eyes and his soul. Hot wet touched his tongue almost immediately. Moreso than he logically wanted to process, simply his raw instinct told him with the amount in his mouth, he needed to swallow. 

It was as if swallowing fire, scorching and red. 

Bubbling up in his throat, he choked once, harsh, and then thrashed against the bonds holding his arms down. Liquid heat rushed from his mouth, running down his chin and exploding forth when he began to cough. 

Panic gripped him and he couldn’t stop himself from trying to suck in a breath, choking on the liquid still in his mouth. He sputtered and spat, desperate to save himself. He opened his eyes to darkness and a low terrified noise left his raw throat.The warmth of even the candles had left him. Was he alone? 

But now with his throat cleared, Robin clung to life, breathing heavily through his nose, teeth clenched. The intense urge to break under his fear kept his thoughts a jumble except for one clear, harsh cry into the black. 

_Why can’t I see?!_

Footsteps nearby, slow and delicate. The light of a candle he could only sense came down near his head and one cool finger pushed his bangs from his forehead. 

“It really is hard on your human body…” A gentle sigh, “But… how I love this side of you…. so fragile…” A finger cut down along his throat, “So delicate...” 

Now that he had cleared his throat, he panted against the racing of his heart. His body knew what was muddled in his heart, his magic, his mind. 

“I wanted you coherent for the ritual. I wanted to see how raw I could get you, hear you cry for me again.” 

The clink of metal, one he knew and dreaded. A whine of distress into the darkness, his limbs trying to tear free once more. But those fingers simply petted his palm.

“So smooth and young… such a sweet, sweet body He gave you…” A thoughtful pause. “Of course, I have your lovely little prince to thank as well.”

 _Chrom!_

Robin twisted at the mention of Chrom, overcoming a veil of fog that was entrapping his thoughts to the dark. Chrom!! 

“Your magic is built through the body your master gave you and the soul your prince filled it with. You’re beautiful.” 

She sat on Robin’s pelvis, tapping his open palm. “I’m going to enjoy opening this.” 

The cold metal pressed into his skin. This was a peak different than before, one for preservation and horror. Morality must be sitting outside of the tent because his comrade was holding a knife to him and he begged for it to at the least open the flap. What was it about Tharja that had seemed so harmless as they looked into each other’s eyes in the daylight? 

But he was simply an honest mage with an upbringing he could not control. The spell, like fingers around his throat, was hard to push through but once more breathlessly he pleaded, “Please, no, Tharja… Please-Please-!!” Heavy breathing, “No! No- please!” 

A scream tore through him, raw and curling as his palm opened to the air under her knife. The warmth of blood rushed to the burning surface of his flesh, a terrible ache taking to the denser parts of his muscle. And yet not a single one of Robin’s fingers could be moved. The sting was so sharp, he broke into a cold sweat, brow creased, tense. White cold came up from his lower back, clenching all his mucles. He wasn’t sure he could even make a sound anymore. 

Their sticky palms came together, tears soaking his cheeks. He felt a spark up his spine and gasped, surprised. A hot tug at his exposed layers of flesh, the sensation of tiny bubbles within his wound. Rather his hand’s blood felt hot, hot as it could get without boiling and Tharja hummed, pleased. 

“Can you feel it? Our magic being tied together?” 

Their exposed fleshes aligned well. All of his body responded, buzzing first with the pit of power that came with black magic. A pit of power as heady and dense as black tar. Tharja’s magic felt as if there were hundreds of tiny needles crawling along his veins and desperately he wanted to tear his hand away but gently Tharja brought her lips down to his.

“Robin…” She kissed him, “You’re covered in blood…” 

“Hn..!” A pool of heat buried itself in his stomach beneath his organs and suddenly the pulsing sting of his palms was the sweetest buzz, cutting hot arousal through him like knife. Hips grinded down and Robin was unable to focus for a whole other reason.

Blindly, he eyes looked up, hoping to see Tharja’s face, the jingling of her jewelry echoing in his ears. 

“I’m sorry, you won’t be able to see for a little longer.” She murmured, dragging her teeth along his jaw, harsh and unforgiving with her canines. Black, a heavy black that signaled he might even lose consciousness again came rushing on him like a hound. He gripped her hand tighter, afraid of what would happen to him if he left his body alone.

And Tharja laughed, yanking his hand up as she rose back up to sit. He cried out, the shock and burst of pain all the way up to his shoulder tearing an honest noise from him. 

“There’s no more drifting. I told you so.” 

Almost delirious, the numbness he had once known basically lost from his system, his eyes rolled back and he echoed, trying to keep his wits together, “No more drifting…” 

But as if on the waves of the oceans, Robin’s wits were floating farther and farther from him. 

The dull pooling of magic to his wound was now just a trickle and Tharja kissed his cold knuckles. Finally their hands peeled away from each other, their intimate kiss finished. Uncaring for the blood still dripping down her wrist, down Robin’s jaw when she cupped his face, Tharja nuzzled their faces together. Then she let him go. 

He had the strength to look up to her one last time, his sight blurred and eyelids heavy. Fear no longer reached him, everything soft, distant. 

Tharja’s eyes fluttered back and forth as they might if she were deep in thought. Lips still shining with blood, she murmured wistfully, “Go back home, Robin.”

Bursting forth from the darkness, Robin jerked awake, gasping. Confused, heart racing he half stood from his seat, eyes rapid in their search for the powerful gaze of the mage. A hand gripped his shoulder, holding him to the bench and keeping him from leaving the table. 

Shocked, he flinched and let out a startled noise. The light of the sun touched his face and he turned to a concerned look from his prince. 

“Are you alright, Robin?” Chrom asked, hand relaxing on the tactician's arm, “You seemed to have fallen asleep for a moment.” 

A cold sweat had touched between his shoulders, and at his expression Chrom’s hardened from casual concern to a more serious worry. 

“Robin?”

The sound of the Shepherds echoed around him, his hand slipping along the edge of one of their maps spread along the table. Disoriented, he took a moment to look around himself. They were outside, meeting beneath one of the trees at an empty lunch table. The sun was high against the blue of the sky, and the faint smell of a meal being prepared touched his senses. 

Slowly he sat back down and Chrom followed his lead still searching his face.

Robin found his voice, although it buzzed with weakness, “I-I’m alright. I..” He swallowed roughly but found there to be no pain as there was before. Another whirl about himself but it was all calm activity. Turning his palm over, the smooth skin left unbroken brought him a heavy breath of relief, although he was lost. When had he gotten here? Where were the wounds that had scorched him to a raging pain? But all was normal. His eyes trailed off across the camp to a far tent, dark and black against the greenery. It was pulled closed. Wringing his hands, he pulled them close in his lap.

There were no lingering doubts that it could be night left for him to cling to. But his heart wouldn’t cease, pounding against his chest that it was all wrong. Faces he knew well passed and Chrom pulled his tactician back to the present once more by a gentle hand to the upper arm. 

“Robin..?”

“You’re right.” He murmured belatedly, gaze still lingering on Tharja’s tent out in the distance, like a bruise in all the green life. His hand, involuntarily to his own knowledge, came to touch along his throat right where he had vividly felt teeth, “I must have.. fallen asleep. Where were we..?”

**Author's Note:**

> I've been thinking of writing other pieces as well. Different angles or cuts into Tharja and Robin but I at least wanted to finish one piece and so here it is. I've been debating over the concept of sex and what it means to Tharja and so whether that would be a future concept or not for fics is still something I'm not sure of. Thanks for reading. Comments are appreciated and I'm open to discussions.


End file.
